


Poison (Matty Healy)

by cpetie81



Category: The 1975 (Band)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drug Abuse, Drugs, F/M, References to Drugs, Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 07:30:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6695458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cpetie81/pseuds/cpetie81
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The beauty of true love is that it will remain in your heart, even after death,<br/>And the ability to love stays, even after your lover takes their last breath.<br/>Somehow, someway, even after the death of the sun,<br/>Love itself can be the antidote to poison.</p>
<p>I love you.  Always keep this (and me) in mind."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poison (Matty Healy)

I wasn’t sure how long I’d been waiting to meet someone like him. Years at the very least. Perhaps even a decade. Endearingly unruly dark brown curls, tattoos artistically littering his body, and soulful eyes were what first caught my attention. Lord knows what my crush, the psychology major and notorious womanizer, noticed in me that made him approach me that day.  
I hummed quietly along with my current favorite song, “Love Songs Drug Songs” by X Ambassadors. It was a dark yet beautiful masterpiece, one that created emotions in me, even if all that other people heard was a catchy beat and a good voice. As the song ended and the sound in my headphones stopped, I heard a noise to my left. Sparing a quick glance over, I jumped in shock. It was him, the psychology-major-slash-womanizer I’d been crushing on but had never talked to. He was casually sitting next to me, looking at me in interest as if we did this every day.  
The boy extended his hand as I pulled my headphones out of my ears. “Hello,” he began. “I’m Matty.” God, he had an accent. He had a fucking British accent!  
I shook his hand, ashamed of the nervous sweat on my palms. “I’m Jeannine. It’s nice to meet you.”  
He chuckled, a sound that somehow both put me on edge and eased my nerves. “You’re in my psychology class.” It wasn’t a question, the way he phrased it. He knew me from class.  
“Y-yeah,” I stammered. “I’ve seen you before.” I mentally smacked myself in the face. What an idiot! So stupid of me to say. Here I was, with the most handsome and seemingly intelligent guy I’d ever met and I was stuttering and saying the dumbest things. Way to go, Jeannine.  
Despite my awkward exchange, Matty smiled at me and said, “You know, you’re really cute.”  
I blushed. Wow. Straightforward and to the point. He was the first person to ever be this forward with me. Then I remembered who this was. This was Matty Healy, the biggest player and womanizer in the entire college.  
“Thanks,” I murmured, looking down and fiddling with my headphones aimlessly. The spring Philadelphia sun beat down on us, warming my skin and bringing the shine in my ashy-blonde hair to life.  
I reached up to twist it around my fingers and peered over at Matty, who was staring at me with a big, goofy grin.  
“What?” I asked him. “Is there something in my teeth?”  
Matty threw his head back and laughed. “No, no, nothing at all love. I was just wondering if you, you know, maybe wanted to grab a coffee sometime.” He said it with such confidence, as if he had never been turned down before. For some reason, that made me angry. We had barely even talked and here he was, acting like he was entitled to a date with me.  
“You know what, I’m alright,” I told him, trying yet unable to keep my voice firm and steady.  
He seemed very taken aback. “You-you don’t want to?”  
I shrugged and stood up, picking up my bag and books from the grass. “I’ll see you around, Matty.”  
Without another word, I strode away, not looking back. What I missed turned out to be his crestfallen, disappointed, and sincerely sad face.


End file.
